Date: Wed, 31 Mar 1999 14:44:40 +0900
From: Andrej Koymasky
Subject: Soul in Cellular 05
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THE SOUL IN THE CELLULAR
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 1999
written the 3rd of February, 1995
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by MiMu
-----------------------------
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"THE SOUL IN THE CELLULAR" is a gay story, with some parts containing
graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion,
family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better
not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't
care, ore because you think yo really want to read it, please be my
welcomed guest.
-----------------------------
5 - DEMETRATOS
The day after, having finished his dinner, Eugenio asked his cellular
for a new story.
"So, Eugenio, do you want to know about when I was the lover of Pericles
the Athenian? Is he famous enough for you?"
"Pericles? Was he gay?"
"In this period, in Greece, there is no gay and not gay. Pederasty is
normal, is an important part of the educational system of boys. As it is
normal to marry after this."
"But there were also adult men decidedly preferring adult males, that is
not just pederasts?"
"Sure there are, and I am one of them. Pericles... more or less. I mean
that he was presumed to stop having sex with me at my coming of age, but
instead, he continues, even if more and more seldom... So, are you
interested in my story?"
"Yes, go on, tell me."
"I am the son of Philon, the votive offerings and amulets maker, and my
name is Demetratos. When I come to life, Pericles is fourteen years old.
Our house and shop are near the Ephaesteion, at the beginning of the
road to the Acropolis. I am born just one year before the Salamina
Battle, a difficult moment for Athens. Luckily we win, in spite of
having just one third of the ships the Persians have, and when I am two
years old even the land army of our proud enemy is defeated and a long
peace period starts. Democracy wins out over despotism, thanks to our
gods' help. Well, today I think it has been the force of desperation to
make us win, but at this time I am convinced, like everybody, that only
the gods' help allowed us to win against such an enemy, incredibly
superior to us.
I am nine years old when in Olympia the Zeus temple is restored by the
contribution of all Greek towns and the panhellenic games start again.
My father takes me to see them. It's here that I meet Pericles, for the
first time. He is twenty three years old, he wears just the very short
tunic and is admiring the huge Zeus statue with other Athenians. He
greets my father, caresses my hair and ask me my name, and I'm lost in
fascination for him. I see him again, this time completely naked, while
he contends in the games, And I'm even more fascinated. He is beautiful,
from hair to toe, a perfect athlete. And he is also very skilled. I
cheer for him, and not just because he is Athenian.
I know that in a few years my father will have to find me an eromenon,
and I want him to be Pericles. So, after the games, while he is cleaning
up himself with the other athletes, using a bone strigil, I go near him
and tell him my hope.
"Pericles, I would like very much becoming your erastai... please..."
He smiles and tells me: "Ah, Demetratos, now just think of growing
older, and at the right age, we will talk again about that. Moreover, it
is your father who has to choose your eromenon, and possibly he has
somebody else in mind."
I don't want it to be another man, so I also tell my father. He shakes
his head and tells me that Pericles is from a too important family to
accept, at the right moment, to be my eromenon. But I don't surrender at
all. If I grow up well, promising, Pericles will accept me, I think with
conviction. Therefore, as we are back home, and when I am enrolled in
the gymnasion, I resolutely apply myself.
I am thirteen years old when Pericles passes in the gymnasion. So I go
near him, recall him who I am and ask him to go to see my father and to
ask him to become my eromenon. He again smiles, but answers me that it
is up to my father to go to ask him and not vice versa. Then I ask him
if he yet got an erastai. He laughs and says that no, he still has none,
but that he is thinking about getting one. So I ask him to wait until my
father asks him to take care of me. He promises me he will wait, but not
more than three months.
I then go to see my father and beseech him to go to meet Pericles and to
ask him to become my eromenon. But my father answers that he cannot do
such a thing. I insist, but it is useless. But I don't surrender, for
sure. When I go with my father to the Agora, where his name is drawn by
lot as one of the representatives of our phylai for that year, I see
that Pericles is there also, so I go and call him, telling him that my
father wants to talk to him. Pericles follows me, and when he is in
front of my father, my hero asks what my father wants to tell him.
My father is confused, he apologises for my impertinence, scolds me, but
Pericles smiles and asks him:
"Can I do something for your son?"
I answer: "Yes, become my eromenon."
Pericles asks my father: "Is this what you desire for your son?"
Well, my father, even if ashamed, in the end asks him if he accepts to
take me as his erastai, Pericles accepts without any problem, and I am
happy.
This thing settled, I wait for Pericles coming to take me at the
gymnasion. I don't have to wait long. He takes me in his beautiful
house, in his private room, he makes me lay near him and finally he
starts my initiation..."
"That is he fucks you."
"No, not yet. That happens almost one year later. At the beginning he
just caresses me, makes me caress him, while we talk, because the
eromenon is, first of all, is a real educator. He explains to me many
things, he answers my questions, he asks me questions... He really has
my formation into an adult at heart, and meanwhile he also leads me,
little by little, up to sexuality. Our spiritual and physical intimacy
grows little by little. My meetings with him are the most beautiful
moments of my day, the long walks, the discussions, the visits, the
physical exercise together, and also when we lay in his room and we
caresses each other.
He then makes me discover my own body, his beautiful body. He teaches me
the most erogenous parts, how to awake them, how to arouse the pleasure.
It is a kind of crescendo, you know, like in music. And one day we also
cum, and it is very pleasurable. Then he starts to have with me what is
called the interfemural intercourse: he embraces me from my front, he
slids his powerful rod between my tight femurs thighs and moves back and
forward, his groin brushing my erect dick, until we both come. And while
doing this kind of union, he starts to probe my back hole with his
fingers, with some perfumed ointment, and he starts to penetrate me with
his finger, preparing me little by little. And he teaches me to be
master of my desire, and not its slave.
His finger inside me is so pleasant, and he knows how to move it so that
he brushes a special spot, giving me not only a great pleasure, but also
the desire to have something more substantial in there... His finger
becomes two, he is little by little teaching me to relax, to open to his
visits, to prepare for the last step. And meanwhile he says me gentle
words, or rather sweet, because I can feel they come from his hearth.
And finally, one day, instead of the incomplete intercourse he was
having with me, he makes me turn around and he scoops on my back and
takes me, I feel so happy that I almost cry. What I so much desired, is
happening, Pericles is really and completely making me his own lover. I
feel him sliding into me, without any pain; gently but steadily he fills
me. And how good it feels when he starts to undulate his pelvis pushing
his wonderful rod in and out of me, in a firm, strong, perfect rhythm.
For us a new, different period starts, where I feel that he too is now
fully satisfied with me. And after each union, he now caresses me for a
long time, saying me sweet words that fill my heart with a deep joy. I
feel that I belong to him, that my life belongs to him, because he is
making a man of me in all the meanings. When I can be near him, with
him, I feel really realized.
Pericles starts to take interest in politics. As you probably know, he
has a rapid success. I grow older, and he receives requests from other
influential families to become the eromenon of their sons. I have to
marry, I am of the right age. I don't want to, but Pericles persuades me
and it is him who finds me a girl to marry. A poor wife she is, I don't
satisfy her so often, even if we have two children. I start to be
requested in my turn to accept my erastai: being a close friend of
Pericles the requests are frequent and from good families.
>From time to time I meet again with Pericles and, when we are alone in
the intimacy of his or my home, it is not uncommon that we make love
again. To tell you the truth, the initiative always starts from me, but
he never steps back, even if, afterwards, he gently tells me that we
have to stop with that... But when I slide my hand between his legs, he
at once gets aroused and cunningly smiles. And so we start making love.
Anyway, it is always him to take me and never the opposite way. I like
being penetrated very much, but also a lot to penetrate, but for that I
have to content myself with my erastai. I don't complain, anyway.
I am now thirty years old, and one of my successive erastai, a boy named
Philetos, falls in love with me. He is a very sound and strong boy, well
shaped, with a nice character. When he grows up, just like it happened
between me and Pericles, he continues making love with me even over the
age that our society admits. He grows handsome and strong and he becomes
one of Athens' best athletes. And he is more and more in love with me.
He is jealous of my erastai, even of my wife, and happily he knows
nothing of what's going on between me and Pericles, even if the meetings
with Pericles now are more and more rare.
When we make love, Philetos and I, it is wonderful. He is able to give
me pleasure as nobody else can... he is passionate, loving, caring. He
knows me, I can say, better than myself..."
"But this doesn't prevent you from taking your pleasure, for what I
understand, with Pericles and with your boys..."
"Well, no, you are right. The fact is that I'm sexually very active, I
must admit it. Sometimes it even happens that I have three intercourses
the same day, but anyway never less than one, that is with Philetos. For
what I know, he on the contrary is completely faithful to me. That is
not because I ask him to be, he is just madly in love with me.
But life has always its sad points, nobody can escape them. My Philetos
dies in the first Peloponnese war. Just after his death I realize how
important he had become to me. I miss him terribly. I realize that I too
was indeed in love with him. Sadly, it is too late. And two years later,
Pericles also dies, because of the pestilence epidemic. Those two deaths
shakes me deeply. After that I don't want to have sex with anybody else.
I don't accept anymore erastai. I close in myself, feeling dead with the
two men I loved. Nine years after Pericles death, finally, I too find a
glorious death on the battle field..."
Eugenio emitted a sigh and for a while both kept silent.
Then Eugenio said to the voice: "You know, I grew affectioned to this
Demetratos, I quite regret he is dead..."
"What's that, does he resemble you?"
"Not at all... I just liked him, because..."
"I like all of them, because all are 'I'. Even those dying as children,
or even those dead before being given birth..."
"Before being born? But those don't count, right?"
"Why not? Of course they count. They all are my lives."
"But you don't have a conscience in a body in gestation, right?
Therefore..."
"You are wrong. I have sensations: noises, sounds, shakes, at times even
lights... fears, peace... the formation of the new being really starts
there. And being detached from that body still in formation for me, has
the same value as being detached from a fully formed body. Moreover, it
is a missed occasion for a new experience. No, even if these lives don't
have such a long story, don't even have a name, I cannot say they don't
count."
*******************
MARCUS
"Anyway, it seems to me that, in the lives you told me about, you always
had happiness, love, exceptional lovers..."
"I just thought you weren't interested in the others. But if you want, I
can tell you about when I was Marcus, a Gaul-roman..."
"What period is it?"
"I come to life in 392 and die in 411, when I am eighteen. I am born in
a Sequanian villa, a great rural villa that is urbanizing. You know, it
is from those villas that the french term "ville" for town, comes.
Sometimes there are barbarians' incursions, but they are small groups
and the villa is able to defend itself with few losses, also because
those groups look for more easy preys. I am thirteen years old when my
friend Valerius, a little older than me, catches me masturbating. I am
deadly ashamed, because he is my best friend, but he smiles and says
that everybody does that and that I have nothing at all to be ashamed
of.
To persuade me, he sits next to me and starts to masturbate. I look at
him with envy, he has a bigger tool than me. I ask him if I can touch
it, and he says yes, or rather, he proposes me to masturbate each other.
I like touching it, feeling him touching mine, it is a lot more
agreeable than doing it myself. So, a few days after, when he proposes
me to do it again, I accept at once. So he starts to touch me, to caress
me, and I follow suit. I like it. And when he kisses me, it is even more
beautiful. It is a 'crescendo' day after day, until we also start to
kiss each other all over our bodies, then even there... and the step to
suck each other is short, but above all, very pleasurable.
We don't penetrate each other: it could seem strange to you, but we
don't even know it is possible, nobody taught us, nobody made us
discover that possibility. We are discovering sexuality by ourselves,
step by step..."
"There were no gay people, in your place?"
"Probably yes, the usual ten percent more or less, I think, but we two
didn't meet anyone. So, we make love how it comes us in mind, in a very
gentle way. Our friendship strengthens, we become inseparable. Our
families are neighbors, in very good terms so that our brotherhood
doesn't arise any suspect. We know that these are things we are not
presumed to do, our village priest taught us that, but we continue, we
simply keep it a secret, because we think it will be silly not to do
such a good thing, between two intimate friends. We talk about that
between ourselves and we both agree on that line of conduct.
I am fourteen. It is winter, more precisely the first day of the year,
and we are celebrating when a blood covered man on his horse arrives and
warns us that the barbarians are arriving. The Rhine has frozen and they
could pass it in forces. We organize the defence, thinking they are one
of the usual groups, the man died soon after giving his alarm and hadn't
had the time to tell us how many they are. We hide the victuals, we
block the streets with barricades, we take out our weapons and mount the
guard.
On January the second they arrive, and we are dismayed: they are
advancing on their horses in a thick line that seems to fill all the
horizon. They must be thousands, tens of thousands. They are the
Vandals. They approach slowly, like a compact wall. They stop. Our women
take the children in the houses, an incredible silence lowers on all the
villa. Then, suddenly, the human wall starts the attack, the horses
starting off at full gallop, and they shout all together, brandishing
their weapons, making them whirl and it is like the sea, roaring, is
throwing itself on us. The sun, even if pale, draws frightening glares
from the advancing wall that, in a moment invests the villa.
We all fight, also Valerius and I, driven to despair, while that
shouting stream outflanks us, surrounds us, starts to infiltrate trough
the streets. They overflow, they are everywhere, our men are dying like
flies, and also those who surrender are butchered. At this point there
is no more real resistance, groups enter the houses, slaughter, pillage,
then put them on fire. I am with some thirty of our men. We are
surrounded by the yelling mass that improvise a carousel around us,
shouting yells, and we can just wait for our death. From time to time
they hit one man. I see my father die, then Valerius' father and his
elder brother, and others. They are killing us one after the other,
slowly. I see that we are now not even ten remaining. And I realize that
we are the youngest of the group: it seems that they kills the less
young first, leaving us as the last...
In spite of all we still try to defend us, but they, passing near us
with their horses, make our weapons fling away from our hands. They can
kill us, but they don't. They are amusing themselves. We are now
unarmed, defenceless, we herd together, and I feel Valerius taking my
hand and squeezing it in silence. Then, one of the horsemen, continuing
to run in that infernal carousel around our small survivors' group,
leans over his saddle, stretches out an arm and takes one of us and puts
him in front of him on the saddle, like a sack, and all the Vandals
around us laugh aloud. It is like a signal, one after another we are
grasped in that way, I feel Valerius snatched away from me, then I
myself am risen away and I see the ground spinning fast under me. I'm
terribly scared.
Suddenly they stop, dismount their horses. I feel I am hurled to the
ground, several Vandals jump on me, their blades shining, and while they
keep me nailed on the ground, they cut off all my clothes from my body
so that in short I am completely naked on the icy ground. I see one of
the Warriors opening his clothes at his groin, pulling out his erect
member and coming down on me. A moment before he rapes me, I see
Valerius, naked like me, screaming under a Vandal, then I feel the
member of the one on me violently pushing against my hole. I scream,
uselessly try to wriggle out , I hear the laughter of the barbarians
keeping me still against the ground, a terrible pain, and the man on me
hammering with violence his way inside me. The pain is unbearable, and
when that one leaves me, another one immediately takes his place. When
the third rapes me, I luckily faint out. I don't know how long I remain
on the ground, unconscious. I think a full day, because when I recover
my senses the Vandals are no more here.
I try to stand up, I am nearly frozen. I feel intense pain pangs. I pick
up my clothes' tatters, trying in some way to cover up myself. Several
houses still burn. All around me, corpses. I drag myself around looking
for Valerius. He is still unconscious, but alive. There are six more
boys around me, living. I have blood between my tights, like all the
living boys and several of the dead. Little by little also the others
recover their senses. We look at each other, in silence, distressed. We
don't know what to say, what to do.
Then, one of us stands up, goes near a dead man and starts to undress
him. The others protest, ask him if he went crazy, but he answers that
to the dead cloths are of no use, but we need them. So, even if feeling
a strong uneasiness, we all follow suit. Then another says we have to
check the food hides: perhaps the Vandals didn't find all of them, so we
start digging in the still smoking ruins. At the fifth attempts we have
luck. We eat.
At evening, after working as long as there is light to bury our dead, we
really just amass them in the crypt of what was our church, we lie down,
exhausted, to sleep. Valerius and I, not caring at all of what others
could think, sleep tightly embraced. A little to contrast the cold, a
little in instinct quite to console each other.
The day after we ask ourselves what to do. We think we can go
southwards, where there are other villas, hoping they will accept us.
But for two days we walk, crossing just burned villas and desolation. It
seems that they passed everywhere and the scenes we see are even more
horrible than what we left behind. In one villa, for instance, the
slaughtered bodies have been literally cut in pieces, an useless and
gratuitous cruelty...
Finally, behind a hill, we see an intact villa. There are yet other
refugees, they welcome us as they can. But the villa cannot maintain so
many people, so the inhabitants invite us, with gentle firmness, to move
further south, as soon as possible. We decide to sleep there and to
resume our journey the day after.
We leave at dawn, nine of us, taking with us just some food for the
journey. But after the vandals, also the Alans arrived. We discover it
at our expenses when suddenly, at mid afternoon a band of these
barbarians pounce on us. Our group instinctively herd together. They
surround us, dismount their horses, and with gestures, menacing us with
their swords, make us understand they want all we are carrying with us.
We give them our poor bundles. Then one of the barbarians approaches one
of us boys, takes him by his arm and yells something to his companions.
The other laugh and circle the boy, they force him to kneel and we think
they want to kill him, but they uncover his ass and rape him.
It is like a signal, also Valerius and I are grasped and they don't even
spare the four aged men that are with us. When they finally leave, they
have killed three of us who attempted to resist them, and amongst them,
also Valerius. I don't know why, I didn't cry even when I saw the
corpses of my father and mother, or of other relatives or friends, but
now I bitterly cry for Valerius. I put his clothes in order, bring him
between the trees, cover his dead body as good as I can with evergreen
branches.
One of the other survivors forces me to leave. I don't know if the pain
of the soul or of the body is stronger. I walk with the others, like an
automaton. Somebody proposes to go back, to the villa from where we
started. Others say that it is better to go further south, to the
mountains. I don't care. A young man who decided to go back, takes me
with him. I follow him without objecting.
Back at that villa we tell them our new misadventure and beg them to let
us stay. As many had left, and also on the intercession of the local
priest, we are allowed to remain. Also because the people don't feel
safe, and decided to fortify the villa, so some more arms to do the
work, are useful now.
For one month we all work, women and children included, to rise
palisades, dry walls, trying to dig moats, but this last idea is soon
abandoned, in fact the frozen ground is harder then granite. We men are
hosted in the small chapel, the women in various houses.
After one month of hard work, one of the children on guard on the
surrounding trees, comes to the villa, running and shouting that
barbarians are coming. They are different from the first and the second
kind, those are Suebes. Reaching the limits of the village, they slowly
spread out, surrounding us. One of them comes forward and, shouting in a
broken Latin, asks us not to resist them, if we want to save both the
village and our lives. He warns us that at minimal resistance they will
kill all of us and burn all the houses. They are numerous, too many.
After a short discussion, the village people decide to surrender. So,
the barbarians had all of us to file and to depose all our weapons. Then
they divide us in two groups: on one side all those between fifteen and
twenty five years old, men and women, on another side all the others.
Meanwhile they start to systematically pillage the houses, taking away
all the food, the valuables like clothes, furs and metallic objects.
Behind their column there are several carriages with their women and
children, and they load everything in their carriages. Then they start
to tie all the people of the younger group, where I too am. The priest
asks them what they are doing, and the one who knows some Latin, answers
that they are taking us as slaves. The priest protests, but as an answer
they cut his throat.
The barbarians' column leaves the village and we follow. In march
formation, the carriages are in the center of the column, with a double
row of warriors on each side. We are tied to each other at our necks,
our wrists tied in front of us, and our ankles are tied with a short
rope so that we can walk but not run. They march singing, a strange
song, sad and strong at the same time. Sometimes they stop not far from
a torrent, making a tight circle with their carriages and at its center
they light some bonfires. They eat, sing, then divide the day plunder,
us slaves included, making the parts in hierarchic order.
There are other slaves who were taken before us, not many and all young.
So I come to know what our destiny will be. We will have to care the
horses, to gather wood for the fires, water, always under escort, to
carry out all the heaviest works and, quite often, let our master take
us, especially when he is not yet married. Obviously. Not all the
barbarians have a family, just about three of four.
My master is a herculean man, around forty years old, his coarse hair
united in two plaits. He has a wife and six children, the elder around
twenty and the little one around five years old. He puts me immediately
to work. He makes me understand with gestures what he wants from me. At
night he sleeps in the carriage, with his wife and his children. I sleep
under the chariot, tied. But at least I have a fur blanket and I eat
regularly.
When I don't understand what he wants from me, he sometimes menacingly
shouts at me, but all considered he is not a bad man. His wife is worst:
sometimes she beats me with a kind of flexible can that she normally
uses to drive the animals which pull their chariot. The two elder sons
are quite all the time with friends their age, and they don't treat me
neither good nor bad.
Even if the chariots are more or less of one family, life takes place in
great groups, probably of relatives, or of comrades in arms, I don't
know for sure. Also food is prepared in great groups composed of several
families. The march order is strictly fixed.Each group has his vexilla,
a long spear with a symbol on the top. The group where I am has a deer
antler as an emblem. Each group has always the same place in the
marching column or in the chariots circle. And inside the group there is
a strict hierarchy.
All along our way they attack several communities, some they completely
destroy, some not, according to the resistance they meet. And the number
of slaves slowly increases..."
"Didn't you say that sometimes the masters did sexually use their
slaves? Did they with you?" Eugenio interrupts.
"For the first months, under this point of view that seems so
interesting to you, nothing happens to me. I am their slave for four
months, it is spring. Also the eldest sons, now, when the night is no
more too cold, start to sleep under the chariot. I guess because their
parents want a little more intimacy, or space, or both. I'm starting to
understand their language. One night I wake up, feeling somebody is
touching me. The eldest son of my master, Unwin, is untying my breeches.
When he sees that I'm awake, he looks at me with his piercing eyes and
orders me to lower my breeches. It is useless to oppose, so I comply. He
caresses my bare ass for a good while. He rolls me on my side, scoops
behind me, and he brushes his cock with energy between my buttocks, but
he doesn't yet penetrate me. I ask myself what he is waiting for, it is
evident what he wants from me. He caresses my belly, my genital and, in
spite of all, he arouses me. This is what he was waiting for: as soon as
he feels my hard on, he puts his saliva in my anus and starts. He is not
violent, he slides it inside me little by little, continuing to caress
my genitals so that I don't lose my erection.
His tool is not too big, he can slip it all inside me without giving me
pain, just a slight annoyance. I hear him breathing and he starts to
slowly move inside me. Little by little I start to feel even a little
pleasure. It is evident that he doesn't want to hurt me, and that, after
all my preceeding experiences, amazes me. Now, while he is moving in and
out of me, he is masturbating me at full hand. My pleasure increases and
he is aware of that. His breath becomes more deep and fast, quite
panting. Now he is taking me with some more energy, but again without
violence.
Suddenly I cum, and soon after he too cums inside me, strongly panting.
Then he parts from me and goes back to sleep. I put me in order and
relax: after all, I think, it wasn't bad at all... Evidently he too
enjoyed it, because two nights later it happens again. And this time, at
the end, he tells me that he likes my ass. I, instinctively, answer:
thank you. He then has a short smile and tells me that it's all the
better, because he intends to do it again with me.
It is three days later when he comes again to the attack. I'm sleeping
on my back. He crouches near me and starts to untie my breeches. I wake
up and he smiles at me, continuing what he is doing. I then lean out my
hand and caress between his legs, feeling his hard on. He again smiles
to me, satisfied, even more when I rummage in his clothes and pull it
out. I then approach with my face and starts to lick it. He is surprised
and jumps back and fells seated on the ground, his legs wide open, his
hands on his back. So I bend down to him and start again, and when I
feel his tool throbbing, I start to suck at it. I like the feeling of
his strong cock throbbing in my mouth, after so much time. He emits a
short surprised moan, but then he pushes his pelvis towards me, letting
me understand that he is appreciating what I'm doing to him.
I suck and lick, and lightly knead his balls, and when I feel he is
ready, I go on all my fours offering myself to him. He comes to me and
enters me, then starts to pump inside me, caressing me all over my body
and masturbating me like all the other times. He is really very excited,
because in a few strokes he unloads inside my channel. But he doesn't
withdraw, he continues to masturbate me until I too cum. Just then he
slowly withdraws and, while we reset our clothing, he tells me that he
likes me very much. I thank him again. I too liked it this time. And I
want it to become even more pleasing...
Little by little I involve him in my love plays: I uncover his chest and
suckle his nipples and he seems being mad for the pleasure. Now he
unites with me every night, with ardour, and once he tells me that I'm a
lot better than the slave girls he was used to share with the other
youths. The fact is that I like him more and more and that I really want
to please him.
A first consequence of this changed relationship is that Unwin starts to
treat me kindly, even during the day, and once, as his mother is
beating me because I unintentionally spilled some water, he tells her to
stop. And at night he assures me that his mother will never again beat
me. And he caresses me. Then, I think he is ready for a new thing: I
kiss him in his mouth.
It is evident that it is his first time, his eyes widen, then he
awkwardly starts to reciprocate my kiss, and he likes it. I'm aware that
I'm conquering him, little by little. Now, also for the food, I don't
have just leftovers, because Unwin personally gives me my food.
It is summer. The Suebes, after conquering a municipality and having
pillaged it, make their encampment near a small lake. Unwin takes me to
the shore and tells me we can bathe. I tell him that, with my wrists and
ankles tied, I would risk to drown. He then asks me to swear that I will
not attempt to flee away, and unties me. We undress and plunge in the
water. What a relief! I feel free and, for a moment, I feel tempted to
flee away swimming... even more when I realize that Unwin is not near
me, and that he is nearer to the shore than me... But I give up: I gave
him my word and he trusted me... Moreover, where to go in that ravaged
land?
We are back to the shore and we lay under the sun. And then, he asks me
why I didn't flee: he swam toward the beach expressly to give me the
possibility to do it... I look at him stupefied, then I tell him: I gave
you my word... He smiles and says I am a real man. We dress and I ask
him to tie again my ankles. He says that at this point it is no more
necessary. I then tell him that I actually felt the temptation to flee
away, and that I don't know if it will not come again. He tells me,
seriously, that if I try to flee, he would have to search for me and
then to kill me, and he doesn't want this to happen. So, I insist he has
to tie me, and he does it.
But that same night, after he unties me, he, for the first time, sucks
my nipples, caresses me, kisses me for a long while before taking me. I
like more and more making love with him, but he also likes very much
doing it with me. I also like a lot how he takes me, with vigour but
tenderness. And after we cum, he doesn't any more go back to his pallet,
but remains with me, caressing and sweetly kissing me... He is my
master, it is true, but at this point he is also my lover...
The barbarian groups don't attack just the Gaul-roman villas and
municipalities, but they often also have bloody clashes between
themselves. During these months there are three clashes, twice against
the Vandals and once against the Alans, but always the Suebes are the
winners. During the last attack of the Vandals, while I hide myself
under the carriage, I see Unwin falling from his horse and an enemy
trying to hit him. So, without thinking, I just come out from under the
chariot, I take a metal bucket hanging from it and with all my strength
I throw it towards the Vandal, hitting him on the chest while he is
lowering his cutting blow. The Vandal staggers, Unwin has the time to
stand up and, from below, he transfixes his enemy. He mounts his horse
again, but only after throwing me a glance.
The Vandals, seeing their attempt to overthrow the Suebes useless,
rapidly withdraw and the Suebes, after a short attempt to pursue them,
come back to the encampment, triumphant. They prepare a big bonfire
where they burn their dead in a solemn rite, they set the widows and
orphans, then they celebrate the victory. After this Unwin tells his
father how I saved his life, and asks him to set me free. This thing has
no precedents, so it is discussed by all men of the group. But in the
end it is accepted.
I really don't know where to go, so I ask Unwin to keep me with him.
Just now, I am no more tied, and I eat with the free men. Winter comes.
Unwin decides to continue to sleep with me under the chariot. He is not
the only young man to sleep out, so this doesn't surprise the others,
and we continue to make love.
But near the end of winter our column is attacked by the Imperial
legions. It was one year nobody saw them. They win. They free the
slaves, but the other slaves accuse me being a friend of the barbarians,
so I'm taken away in chains, together with the surviving Suebes, amongst
whom unfortunately there is no Unwin: he died in the battle.
We are brought to Treviri. For some time we remain chained in the
prison. But with the full of spring, we are offered to work as slaves in
the country, for a rich man of the town. I accept, together with a few
others. The new master treats me with much hardness and despise,
probably because I am a Gaul-roman and sees me as a traitor.
So, I decide to try to escape. I'm now quite eighteen years old. During
my slave period in Treviri I often have sex with the other slaves, in
fact slaves cannot have women, and I am one of the youngest... To me
there is no problem, even if of course no one of them is a Valerius or a
Unwin... One of them is always very kind to me, more than any other
slave, both when he takes me and during the day. So I confide him my
project to escape, asking him to help me. He says that he feels all
right being a slave there, so he doesn't want to escape, but he assures
me he will help me. But instead, he betrays me. To gain merits at our
master's eyes, when I'm ready to flee, he tells it to our master.
The master hates me. He acts as if he didn't know. He just hides some
archers. When I put my project in act, feeling safe, I have just the
time to go out of the fields enclosure and go towards the forest, when
an arrow pierces my arm. I run, a second arrow pierces my back. I fall
down, I feel other arrows piercing me while I lose consciousness, and
then life abandons my body..."
Eugenio emits a sigh and says: "Ah, those were really barbarous times.
Happily Europe, since centuries, has become a civilized land..."
"Do you really believe so? Then, hear the story of Ignace, born in
Bruxelles on February the 14th 1807 and dead in Bristol on April 29th
1838."
"No, I have no time now, I'm sorry. You can tell me tomorrow. Will I
still find you?"
"Sure, the needed day didn't yet elapse, so there is no danger I have to
leave. Hear you tomorrow, then."
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CONTINUES IN PART 6
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In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read
them, the URL is
http://www.geocities.com/~andrejkoymasky/
If you want to send me feedback, my e-mail is
andrejkoymasky@geocities.com
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